There's a Reason
by Kas and Bree
Summary: After a Decepticon attack that caught the training Autobots off guard, we get to follow the story of the mecha who lost what it meant to be who they once were. Even after seven years, some aching sparks and damaged frames have yet to be healed.
1. Prologue

_"I'd been terrified. It was just supposed to be a training exercise!"_

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 **Look and Listen Book 1**

 **There's a Reason**

 **Chapter 1: Prologue**

 **Rating: PG-13 (violence/gore, character death, physical disabilities, light language)**

 **Major Characters: Wheelie, Daniel, Kup, Rodimus Prime, Sideswipe, Blurr**

 **POV: Wheelie**

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Look and Listen Book 1 There's a Reason Chapter 1: Prologue Rating: PG-13 (violence/gore, character death, physical disabilities, light language) Major Characters: Wheelie, Daniel, Kup, Rodimus Prime, Sideswipe, Blurr POV: Wheelie (mainly through journal entry)

A young adult male with moppy brown hair that stuck up at odd angles hops onto a metal berth and lays back with his arms crossed behind his head. In the same instant, a young mech about the human's height sits at a desk near the foot of the berth and starts searching through drawers and sorting papers, books, and data-pads. The human rolls light brown eyes, looking to his orange-armored comrade from between his feet. "Ugh, ya done yet?" he asks the mech, propping himself up onto his elbows.

Using his right servo, the mech looks up to his friend and touches his index finger to both sides of his chest, and does a series of other movements with it that make the human groan and dramatically fall back onto the berth. "I _know_ we just got here- but you're _always_ sorting through that stuff! Let's jus-" The human stops and sits up, then swings his legs off the berth and hops to the floor. He crosses the room and goes over to the couch that his parents had brought there when he and the Cybertronian were younger; it's where he used to sleep when he'd spend the night there. He picks up a data-pad- it's what caught his eye. Not that it wasn't uncommon to find them in here; his friend had dozens of them!- but what wasn't common was for them to just be laying around. He always had them organized very neatly on shelves or at his desk. "Hey Wheelie!" The human waves the data-pad around a little until he's got his metal-friend's attention. "What's this doing here? I though you only used them at your desk!"

Having heard his name, the Mini-Bot glances over his shoulder. His optical-ridges furrow and he stands up. That wasn't h-... His optics widen a little and he gestures for the human to come over to him as he sits down on the edge of the berth. He makes quick and graceful movements of his servos and digits.

"Wait...you thought you threw this out? Then what's it _doing_ here, buddy?" The 'bot shrugs mutely and moves his hands again. "Wait...you mean the one where you...?" Wheelie nods and turns on the data-pad, accessing he only file that it possessed.

He offers it to his friend with nudge from his elbow and the organic takes it. "Look! There's a note at the top of the entry!" He narrows his eyes to look at it, before reading the note aloud.

 _"Wheelwasher, I discovered this within the trash-heap some time ago. You should not simply discard of such a work; what did I teach you about expressing yourself and letting others know the true stories? After all this time, I figure it was time to return this to you. Read it through again; perhaps make some edits- you know where to come if you wish to have something done with this work in the future. - Alpha Trion."_

The human looks up to his friend, light brown meeting crystal blue. "Well...ya wanna read it? Or at least let me?"

Wheelie touches his digits to his chin, then huffs out a vent (which causes his human friend to jump a little) and nods. He scoots closer to the organic, and they hold the device between each other.

...

 _There was a reason that things happened. Right? There...there had to be! But was there a reason for_ that _...? I'd been terrified. I can remember that it was just supposed to be a training exercise!_

 _And I guess that made it perfect for the 'cons to choose their attack at that time... My comrades hadn't realized it at first when they shut down the holographic programs, taking place of what_ should _have been false enemies._

 _I'd been one of the last ones to realize the Decepticon ploy after using my slingshot to shoot an explosive in the direction of what I thought had been a holographic Scavenger- only to have heard him howl and collapse to his knees, clutching his shoulder after his arm had been blown off._

 _That...it wasn't what I went to the training field for! Only a firm servo taking my arm and pulling me off my pedes had saved me when Hook (who'd gone to his fellow Constructicon's aid) got me in his sights and took aim. He'd shot the very spot I'd been standing just seconds before he'd pulled the trigger._

 _"Snap out of it, lad."_

 _I'd blinked, looking up when I heard the familiar voice. Until the other had spoken, I hadn't realized how rigidly I'd been standing. I had taken in a slow, shaky vent- that had been too close. "Thank you, Kup. But how did they get here? It just doesn't add up." I shifted my weapon in my grasp so that I held the butt of a gun instead of the barrel that acted as my slingshot's handle, peeking over the edge of the trench that the old mech had pulled me into. They'd been everywhere..._

 _Kup just shook his head when I looked back at him, two digits pressed to the side of his head. He lowered his servo and his optics moved to his pedes after a few seconds. I was afraid to ask what was wrong, but he answered my silent question. "First Aid answered; Red Alert and Inferno're offline, kid. No wonder we weren't warned 'bout the attack."_

 _I hadn't known the mechs very well, personally; but I knew the old mech was chief of security, so he wouldn't known Red Alert pretty well. In turn, he probably knew Inferno well too since those two seemed pretty inseparable the few times I'd run into them. He looked down at me, over the edge of the trench, then back down at me again. "Ya ever been in a firefight, lad?" I shook my head. Sure, I'd fought with Sharkticons all the time on Quintessa so that I could survive on my own- but they didn't have guns and rockets like Decepticons did. "Well you're in one now... Follow my lead, got it kiddo?"_

 _I'd nodded mutely, putting my weapon at my hip and moving into an army-crawl just as Kup did. I followed him as he moved through the high-sided trench; we paused constantly and covered our helms as the fliers went past, dropping missiles on the training field from above, before we'd continue on. We'd been closer to the center since there hadn't been as many Autobots training there. I know we were both probably wishing we'd stuck with the larger groups of training mecha..._

 _I'd started going through a list of names in my processors then, mechs I knew had been on the training field. Rodimus Prime and Ultra Magnus had both been sticking to the sidelines to watch the troops, Kup had stuck close to me (good thing too), Blurr was supposedly racing the Lamborghini-twins off to the side of the field (like they would've had a chance at winning). Who else...? Ah, Wreck-Gar too. He'd come from Junk by request of Rodimus to teach some of the troops how to make fast repairs with whatever was at hand. Arcee...the Dino-Bots...I thought I'd remembered seeing Springer earlier too. That made thirteen of us in all against a few dozen Decepticons._

 _I knew the Constructicons were there and that Hook probably would've had Scavenger repaired shortly. I'd also bet that Galvatron was leading the whole thing with Cyclonus and the Sweeps at his side. Just them alone would have been so much trouble..._

 _I'd peeked over the edge of the trench just as Kup did- and we'd both started cursing. The old mech had cast me a scolding look for my language. But the reason for it had been clear: there came Astrotrain in shuttle mode, and he was hauling in the Combaticons and Stunticons. Frag, oh frag, oh frag... If all three Combiner teams got themselves put together we'd be facing not only most of the Decepticons, but Devastator, Bruticus, and Menasor too. The Aerialbots were patrolling on the other side of Cybertron, the Protectobots were on Earth._

 _I could tell just by looking at Kup that things could have very well turned south for the Autobots. I saw him cringe and slowly close his optics, turning his head to the side- I'd peeked back at the field in time to see Springer spiral out of the sky in his helicopter mode; two of his blades gone and tail broken off. He crashed down hard in front of the Combaticons. I remember my optics widening and that I'd covered my mouth when Onslaught took aim...and fired on the downed triple-changer._

 _I tore my gaze away from the disturbing sight and looked right up to my caretaker. "Kup...our chances don't seem too bright... But we can still win this, right?"_

 _"Eh? Uh, yeah, sure lad- 'course we can!" The glint in his optics didn't match his smile- and even the smile hadn't quite looked natural. We'd been caught off-guard; the 'cons had planned it freaking perfectly. None of our Combiner teams were available, our space-travelers (Cosmos and Omega Supreme namely) weren't on the planet; we'd been caught while training. Most of the 'weapons' we had on hand were going to either had limited ammunition or not even have the actual rounds and just have blanks. I mean, I'm sure everyone was calling whoever they could get hold of over their comm.s, and I knew that the base wouldn't have just been left completely unprotected, but..._

 _No! We could pull through! We'd defeated Unicron, we'd faced the damn Quintessons so many times; we could do this! I had kept telling myself that as Kup and I both eased back into a crawl, headed toward where I'd last seen Wreck-Gar teaching Arcee how to make rapid repairs that'd hold up in a fight- Rodimus and Magnus had been close to them, too._

 _"Get your fraggin' head down!" Kup had shouted from ahead of me by just a few paces, pressing himself to the ground and covering his head with his servos. I copied his action, and not nanoseconds later rubble had rained down around us as an explosion went off. Once we knew it was safe, we'd pressed on._

 _"Kup! Wheelie! You're alright!" I couldn't really see past my caretaker as we moved through the narrow trench, but that didn't mean that I couldn't_ hear _Rodimus when he called to us from somewhere ahead. When we reached him, I'd also spotted Magnus and Wreck-Gar; off to the side, Arcee was on her knees and gently holding a sobbing Sideswipe's shoulders. The black- and red-armored mech was holding his head in his servos, and coolant streamed from his tightly shut optics. I remember looking at the mech with narrowed optics and rigid plates; I'd immediately wanted to know where Sunstreaker was._

 _I looked up at Kup with wide optics, and then toward Rodimus. "Sunstreaker didn't make it into a trench before Bruticus was formed," Rodimus had murmured softly, "and Sideswipe broke down as soon as their twin-bond was shattered."_

 _I could've sworn that my hexagonal optics rounded out a little as I covered my mouth. I personally didn't know what it was like to have a sibling bond since I had none, and I'd been so young when my creators offlined that I can't remember exactly what the breaking of the bond felt like. But I_ did _have someone close to me- who I considered a brother- and who was in that very fight... I looked at Sideswipe one last time, and then back to the Prime. Two words were all that escaped me: "Where's Blurr?"_

 _Magnus was the one to answer me, "He and the twins were helping get troops further out in the field get to safety."_

 _My optical-ridges had furrowed, then Kup spoke in an attempt to sooth my circuits. "Come on, lad- if anyone can make it 'round the field safely, it'll be 'im."_

 _I could only not a little; Blurr was the fastest grounder alive. Sure he'd be able to make it!- I told myself. But still...it couldn't fully chase away the unease that'd settled in the pit of my tank. Kup and Blurr were both family to me; I didn't want to have to watch as their frames were dragged off the field with no more energy beating in their chests. So of course I was worried since my best friend, a mech I happily consider a brother, wasn't in my sight and no one knew his location at the moment._

 _I'd tipped my head back when I felt a reassuring servo on my shoulder, and I met my caretaker's optics. "He ain't goin' to the AllSpark if I've got any say in it, lad."_

 _The old mech stood after giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze, and I watched him approach Rodimus and Magnus- all three of the taller mechs had kept their heads low as they spoke quietly amongst themselves. I watched as all three of them had pressed their digits to the sides of their heads- relief overtaking their features even as explosions kept throwing rubble in and around our trench._

 _The first thing I heard was a rocket and Sky Lynx landing not moments later, standing up on his hind legs to tussle with Bruticus. A red jet flew overhead, shooting at Decepticon fliers and...narrating himself? I'd gone through the names in my processors until settling on Powerglide for that one. Following in not long after him was a red-armored tank rolling over the ground, its well-kept canon firing on Menasor. The Constructicons still hadn't combined by that point, but when I'd peeked over the edge of the trench, I could see that Scavenger's repairs were about finished, and his other comrades were all gathered- clearly ready to form Devastator the second the last weld was finished._

 _I could hear familiar engines growling, turbines purring, motors revving as our reinforcements started pouring onto the not-so-training field battle. A Sweep spiraled out of the sky after a direct hit, and I'd blinked when I'd seen the winged car that'd taken it down. Tracks. Frag...I always forgot that even though he was a car, he'd been upgraded with wings and was_ always _helping out in the skies..._

 _The Sweep had crashed down in front of Warpath, but I hadn't been able to see if he actually got run over by the tank-mech or if he'd moved out of the way before he could get flattened like a turbo-fox trying to stop a moving steamroller._

 _"Wheelie," I glanced over my shoulder at Rodimus when he'd called my name, and then I'd scurried over to the three older mechs, "Powerglide just spotted Blurr. He's about a klick," he pointed out toward his left, just beyond when I'd last been able to see Menasor's head from the trench, "that way, helping Swoop find safety. Swoop's suffered some heavy damages and wouldn't be able to make it back without someone aiding him."_

 _I nodded in thanks, but stayed quiet- I'd just wanted to see Blurr come back safely. I went back to the edge of the trench, peeking over it; I saw Magnus and Wreck-Gar run by after exiting the trench, and they'd heading off in the direction of Tracks. I could see that he was now fighting on the ground, one of his wings bent in a way I can't imagine could have been very comfortable. I could see Sky Lynx from the corner of my gaze, and he had Brawl in his jaws and was shaking him around- looked like he'd managed to make Bruticus collapse from combined form. Despite that Menasor still stood, and it'd sounded like the Constructicons had finally combined too._

 _I hated being so small... I had missed a lot of details of that fight that were happening beyond the trench._

 _And then I saw Swoop, and he wasn't that far off; limping in our direction and taking cover whenever he could. Following directly after him was a blur of silver and blue, and it drew a lot of fire away from the injured Dino-Bot. My optics had widened a little, my pedes scrabbling against the wall of the trench until my toes had a good hold against it and I'd been perked up onto one elbow. Spotting another Sweep trying to blast at my friend, I'd ignored when Kup told me to get my head down, holding up my blaster and firing. A curse had left me when the shot barely nicked the Sweep's wing; I clearly needed work with a gun back then... Slingshots were easy. Blasters were a little harder in my opinion._

 _I'd started waving my weapon to get Swoop to spot me; he'd seen me, just before one of my pedes had slipped and I fell with a grunt onto my back on the ground. I remember that I'd stayed there for a minute until Arcee'd come over thinking I was injured. As soon as she'd knelt over me to check me for damages, I'd sprung back to my feet and returned to where I'd initially been._

 _Swoop...was down. That was the first thing I saw when I'd propped myself up onto the edge again. The Dino-Bot had been on the ground, and Astrotrain was pulling a cruel-looking blade from the mech's chest. I remember staring at the sight. It hadn't been as cruel with Springer. A quick shot to the head from Onslaught, and it was over. But Swoop's optics were flickering; the energy from his spark was weakly flicking out of the gaping wound in his chest as oil had pooled around his frame. I'd flinched when I heard Grimlock let out a screeching-roar, and the Dino-Bot leader had then lunged out of another trench quite a distance from where I'd been with the others. He'd charged Astrotrain like he himself was a freight train and the large triple-changer was nothing more than a little_ car _._

I _'d been able to hear Kup behind me with Rodimus at his side. "Kid, c'mon; get down. Y-... Oh, Primus dammit..."_

 _At the same time that he'd said those final words, I'd dropped my weapon to cover my mouth in an attempt to silence the splitting scream trying so desperately to claw its way out of my throat._

 _There was Blurr, zipping to Swoop's side to try helping the dying mech. I don't...I still don't know where it came from,_ who _it came from, but it had happened so quickly..._

 _The explosion threw him violently to one side after it'd landed literally only feet from him. He'd hit the ground rolling like a cyclist being hit by a semi..._

 _I can faintly remember scrabbling over the edge of the wall, hearing Kup's voice in the back of my processors like a distant fog and feeling a servo around my ankle. I'd kicked out in an attempt to pull myself free,_ screaming _Blurr's name. My pede had met its mark on the corner of my caretaker's jaw, and his grip had loosened just enough for me to pull free and drag myself up onto the ground above the trench._

 _I'd run across the short stretch of open ground until reaching my 'brother's' side- I hadn't even cared at that moment that I could have been shot. "Blurr?! Blurr?!" I'd shouted at him, shaking his shoulder when he hadn't responded. My vision had started to blur when coolant threatened to spill from my optics. His...his legs... I could see them but they...th-they weren't attached to his frame; one missing at the knee down, and the other detached completely from his pelvis. The detached legs had been lying a few yards away from his frame._

 _"Bl- gck!" The noise was strange to me. I hadn't known where it came from, not initially. It was a choking, gurgling sound that made me feel sick to my tank. I knew I didn't quite feel right after hearing the noise; I knew I hadn't imagined the way my optics started dimming, the way I'd felt a warm substance running down my neck. But it hadn't been until oil dripped down onto Blurr's still face-plates that I'd brought a shaky servo to my neck. The digits had_ immediately _been coated in the black, iridescent substance._

 _I'd started feeling dizzy, and had been forced to move to my hands and knees. One servo had clutched at my throat where a stray shot had hit me; I'd started hacking, coughing up oil and energon, before the arm supporting me gave out under my weight. I...don't remember actually collapsing, but it had seemed like one moment I'd been on hands and knees, then the next instant I'd blinked I'd been on my side; optics flickering in and out. I tried, Primus, I had tried not to let my processors drift away from me; I needed to help my friend! I needed to get Blurr to safety! I needed to make sure Sideswipe would be able to cope with the loss of his brother! The other Dino-Bots with Swoop. That Gnaw was being well cared for! I needed to know that Daniel was still safe on Earth!_

 _But...I remember that recharge had seemed such a peaceful idea. I wouldn't need to feel the oil bubbling out of the severed lines in my throat, feel the sparking of singed circuits against my sensitive digittips. I...I could see my creators again!_

 _Everything around me had started to spin and blur together in the most nauseating yet captivating of ways. I could've sworn, in the back of my processors, that I'd heard someone calling my name before the suffocating blackness had fallen over my gaze._

 _I remember that I'd drifted in and out of consciousness after that; remember feeling myself being moved in different ways, or a voice trying to penetrate through the fogginess of my processors before I'd drift out again._

 _The next time I'd woken fully, I'd flinched away from the blinding white light above me. It took my optics a while to recalibrate; when they did, I'd found myself in a medical room- one of the rooms where First Aid often moved his recovering patients so that he'd have the medical bay itself free for whenever it was needed. I'd sat up slowly; glancing about the room as I had. Daniel was the first thing to catch my gaze; he'd been curled up in a chair next to the berth that was clearly meant for someone much larger than the human, a blanket wrapped around himself and head laying on a very uncomfortable-looking pillow. I hadn't been able to see his face because he had his back to me, but he looked like he'd been in their for a while considering there were wrappers and water bottles scattered about the chair and floor around it._

 _I remember that I'd sat quietly, so clueless as to what'd happened. I'd figured that First Aid had made the needed repairs on whatever components might've been shot, grazed, or singed in my neck, so I thought I'd just been in the room to recover from the repairs he'd made._

 _Daniel was given my usual smile when he sat straight up with awful bedhead and half-closed eyes- he'd smiled tiredly back, giving me a lazy wave before stretching and then struggling a bit to climb up onto the berth. My human friend had wrapped his arms around me, hugging me gently- as if_ he _was the one afraid to break_ me _._

 _"I was so worried, Wheelie!" he'd chirped, pulling back from the embrace and sitting down next to me. "You should'a seen the fit Kup threw when he wasn't allowed to leave his medical berth to come see you!"_

 _My smile'd faltered a little when my organic friend said that; my caretaker was bound to be furious with me, right? And...wait...I remember wanting to ask what injuries the old 'bot might've had that dictated he needed to be in a medical berth- but my first priority (even though I'd been terrified for the answer) was to know if Blurr'd survived._

 _I'd opened my mouth to ask about my 'big brother'. I...hadn't noticed initially when no sound came out. It wasn't until I'd looked at Daniel and seen his peppy expression had immediately turned downcast that I knew something was wrong. I'd tried to ask_ what _was wrong, but stopped- noticing my silence. I wasn't sure what to think of it; I thought that maybe my vocoder needed to be reset, so I'd taken a look at my HUD to view internal systems. My vocoder wasn't giving_ any _readings to me- that could have only meant..._

 _My servos had immediately moved around my neck; my optics had widened. There were welds on my neck- and I could tell, just by feeling with the tips of my digits, that there were some components missing from it._

 _I'd felt something soft and organic rest on my shoulder; Daniel's hand. "First Aid said he couldn't repair it and that the...uh...circuitry in your neck's too fried to do anything 'bout it but just keep it closed up."_

 _My voice, the way I'd speak in verse, rhyme; that's what_ used _to make me unique, make me who I was. I rhymed by choice, to...remember someone I'd lost long before I'd found Kup, Rodimus, and the Dino-Bots on Quintessa. I...didn't know what I'd do without my voice. I didn't know how I'd even be able to communicate._

 _I remember that I'd drawn my knees against my chest, wrapping one arm around them and burying my face; one servo had remained on my neck. I remember feeling Daniel wrapping his arms around my shoulders._

 _"I'm so sorry, Wheelie..."_

...

The juveniles lower the data-pad so that it's rested half-and-half on the knees they had touching each other. The human male reaches one arm around his friend, wrapping it around his shoulders. "I know that fight'd cost ya a lot- but reading how you saw it..."

Wheelie only shrugs, offering his friend a small smile. That was in the past.

Silence was all anyone could get from him anymore- not that he was able to help it of course. It had taken some of the mecha who'd been part of that battle so long ago now a long time to recover. Some of them still were recovering. Wheelie had been released from the medical room a lot earlier than many of the damaged mecha- the first place he'd gone was to Blurr. His brother-figure had looked so weak, his optics glowing so dulling; he'd been connected to countless machines (most of which Wheelie hadn't been able to name). His legs had been replaced, but he moved...normally; no blurred after-imaged, no sped up words.

First Aid had informed Wheelie, after his clear question had been asked by Daniel, that whatever speed programming the former courier had was destroyed in the explosion due to heavy damages to his neural net, and that the mech'd be lucky if he could even walk unaided ever again. It always made the young soldier's spark ache when he'd see Blurr nowadays limping through the halls on his crutches, the way the mech would turn his head away and abandon a conversation when others started talking about running, driving...racing.

Kup had been the next one he'd visited. Wheelie had walked in to see Rodimus holding up a data-pad that held images on it, questioning the old mech what they were. _"Galvatron. Skyfire. Teletraan II. ...Not sure I know that one, lad."_ It had been an Ick-Yak, and Kup hadn't recognized it- even though Wheelie'd learned that just the day prior he'd been telling one of his Ick-Yak stories. His memory banks had been damaged after he'd received a hard blow to the head shortly after Wheelie'd been shot. Some days, the mech could remember something in crystal-clear detail; the next he'd have no idea what the slag it was, only to remember it again perfectly after getting a bit of recharge.

Wheelie can remember a day about two years ago when he'd bone to see his childhood caretaker, just like he would every morning- and...the mech hadn't recognized him. It broke his spark when his sire-figure had looked him right in the optics and asked who he was. No one ever told Kup about that particular memory being forgotten. But it always had the mute soldier terrified of having it happen again.

he'd visited the Dino-Bots too- they'd seemed more infuriated than anything about Swoop's deactivation. But Wheelie _still_ swears he'd seen a glint of sorrow in Grimlock's optic when he'd climbed off the tyrannosaurus' nose all those years ago.

Sideswipe didn't talk about Sunstreaker- not then, and not now. He'd grown serious, and no one could even remember the last prank he'd pulled on another Autobot. He stuck to the sidelines and he he'd only talk to a select few by choice; Wheelie had been surprised when he'd found himself a part of that short list.

And Wheelie? Carly had come up with the idea of getting him a download for American Sign Language (ASL) so that he'd be able to communicate. Daniel had immediately started learning it so that he'd be able to understand his mute friend; and gradually more and more of the 'bots started downloading it too. It started as just the ones who'd interacted with him on a daily basin- the others were just 'jumping the boat' as Spike had laughingly stated.

It didn't mean he wasn't completely alright with it; he missed being able to speak.

"Hey, quick question?" the organic asks as Wheelie hops off the berth with the data-pad and goes to his desk to find a place for it.

Wheelie gains a quizzical expression and upturns his palms; _'What?'_

"You free this Saturday? Raoul and Tracks are gonna be hosting the usual circuit around the old Outpost. They asked if I'd like to come- maybe take part. I think Mom, Dad, and Bee're gonna be in it too."

The mech smiles a bit, though taps his wrist with a digit and quirks an optical-ridge.

"It'll be around noon. So, ya comin'?"

Wheelie narrows his crystal blue optics, accessing his schedule through his HUD. He holds one servo up, but he doesn't make any movements with it at first. When he does, he fists it and bends it at the wrist a few times- it almost looks like he'd knocking on a nonexistent door.

"Great!" The human claps his hands together and gets off the berth with no difficulty- he and Wheelie were about the same height, after all! "So...finished sorting yet?"

Pushing one other data-pad into an upright position so that it's in the correct spot, Wheelie uses his free servo- again fisting it and 'knocking'."

"Great! Then let's go- I'm starving!"


	2. Idle Chatter

_"You're telling me that you_ still _haven't downloaded ASL?"_

* * *

 **Look and Listen Book 1**

 **There's a Reason**

 **Chapter 2: Idle Chatter**

 **Rating: PG (physical disabilities)**

 **Major Characters: Wheelie, Daniel, Blurr, Sideswipe, Bluestreak, Skids, Sludge**

 **POV: Wheelie**

* * *

The Cybertronian and his human friend strode through the halls of the massive Autobot base on their way to the recreation room (that is, if judging by what Wheelie's chronometer was telling him about the time it'd be on Earth in Autobot City). They joke and nudge each other as they walk close to the walls so that larger mecha wouldn't step on or trip over them; taking turns on telling jokes to each other. Daniel doesn't even seem to care that he has to watch his friend in order to know what he's trying to say- Wheelie was still Wheelie, even if he signed instead of rhymed, after all.

When the juveniles get closer to the rec room, Wheelie stops and his organic friend follows suit. He makes a 'y' shape with his right servo and brings it near the side of his head before moving it forward a few inches, followed by four different movements of it- the whole thing accompanied by a quizzical expression on his face-plates. _'Call B-L-U-R?'_ he asks- cheating and making the name shorter by not adding the second 'R'.

"Yeah, sure thing!" Daniel brings his wrist up closer to his mouth after activating the communicator in his watch. "Blurr, ya available?... Wanna join Wheelie an' me in the re-... Oh, alright! Need someone to g-... Alright, alright! We'll be in shortly then!" The human looks to his metal-friend and gives a lighthearted shrug after lowering his wrist. "He's already in there, and Sides already helped him get his fuel. So we can head right in."

Wheelie grins with chipped dentia and the two then continue into the room.

The recreation room was massive, with dozens of tall tables lined up neatly and bolted to the floor throughout. There were at least two chairs on each side of the five-sided tables- some of the chairs meant for large Cybertronians, others small but with controls on them that'd bring whoever sat in them to the table's height or back to the floor.

There are quite a few mecha present, too. Grapple and Hoist were arguing over a blueprint spread out between them on the table in one corner- Grapple's energon half-gone, and Hoist's untouched. Arcee was sitting on the opposite side of the table, looking over a data-pad with her legs crossed and a cube in one servo- she'd take periodic sips as she scrolled through the information. The Aerialbots were closer to the center of the room, laughing with each other and poking fun at their leader who, Wheelie had found out long ago, was afraid of heights. Alone in a corner was another mech Wheelie didn't know- a blue-armored theoretician he'd seen from time to time, but never really caught the name of. He appeared to be daydreaming. At a fourth table, against one wall, Wheelie could see three others sitting and chatting: Bluestreak, Sideswipe, and Blurr- the latter in a semi-small chair that raised up to be at the table's level.

Wheelie retrieves for himself a cube of pale pink energon- a special grade First Aid and Perceptor had come up with him that was easier on his scarred intake and still more energizing than medical grade. After he'd picked it up, he jogged over to the table and sat in a small chair that was next to Blurr; he holds his cube securely as he hits the buttons on it and it raises upward smoothly. It stops just before the Mini-Bot's knee-pads can hit the bottom of the table.

Wheelie nudges Blurr with an elbow, followed by a silent laugh; the former speedster just rolls his optics and chuckles softly, nudging the smaller mech back. After a bit more of a nudge-fight, Wheelie's forced to stop when Blurr gets him in a headlock and starts rubbing the top of his head with a fist in a nuugie.

"Hey- enough you two." Sideswipe's stern voice cuts through the clanging of metal. Both smaller mechs stop and straighten themselves just as Daniel's chair rises up into position next to Wheelie, and the human sets his lunchbox on the flat surface in front of him.

"Hey Sides; Blue," Daniel greets the much larger mechs, smiling up at them- then he taps Wheelie's shoulder. "Hey buddy, you're gonna spill your fuel if you try that."

Wheelie's servos move into his lap immediately, and Sideswipe gives him an unamused look. After a few moments, the Mini-Bot puts his servos up in surrender to teh red- and black-armored demolitionist, and Sideswipe finally removes his gaze from the far smaller mech. "Kids..." he huffs, earning a glare from Wheelie.

Bluestreak, sitting nearest Sideswipe, covers his mouth with a servo and snickers. "You were young once too, Sides. And he's not really a kid anymore- Wheelie grew outta that stage a lot quicker than ya usually see in mecha." The Mini-Bot brings his digits to his lips, keeping a flat hand, and then moves the hand forward and downward. Bluestreak just narrows his optics. "Ah...what's that one mean again..?"

Wheelie's expression immediately changes to show that he's clearly not impressed, and he turns up his palms in the all too familiar gesture of 'seriously?!' even though it wasn't an actual ASL sign.

"You're telling me," Sideswipe says, "that you _still_ haven't downloaded ASL? It's been six years, Bluestreak- and Blaster even sent out the download to everyone. Twice."

"Yeah...I...never really read my transmissions, I guess? Not unless it's marked as important by the sender."

"You are hopeless."

"I get it from Smokescreen!"

Sideswipe sighs and shakes his head- then he chuckles. It's a small sound. Something only the ones at his table can hear, but it's a lot more than he usually gave. Sides _never_ laughed anymore. "Of course ya do. And what would Smokey say?"

"That...I get it from Prowl?"

"Outta you three, Prowl had the _most_ sense, Blue. You get it 'cause you're as thick-headed as Warpath." Sideswipe pauses and looks to Wheelie. "Speaking of... Has...Warpath downloaded it yet either?"

Wheelie just shrugs. He liked to avoid the security chief- he was too loud for the former survivalist's liking. The Mini-Bot'd ended up almost stepped on by the tank way too many times too.

Sideswipe just huffs and sits back with a look of 'my faction is hopeless' across his face-plates. He takes a sip of neon pink energon and closes dark blue optics. The others knew what this meant: Sides was done talking for now; he'd just listen to the conversation from here on out until he found reason to pipe in again.

Daniel opens his lunchbox, taking out a sandwich that he'd packed that morning and brought to the recreation room to keep cooled in a fridge built specially for the humans that frequented Headquarters: Daniel, Spike, Carly, and some others that the 'bot'd met in their time on Earth and befriended.

"So Blu'," Daniel asks the former speedster with his mouth full and elbows leaning on the table, "wha'f ya been up to la'ely? Ha'n't talked 'ith ya fo' few days!"

The blue mech sets down his energon and breaks the silence he'd been holding. "I've been setting up patrols for the messengers- that's really about it duty-wise. But you know I can't really do much else. No, no, not much else at all. Other than that I've been going to First Aid daily for physical therapy and further repairs- he's really doing a splendid job! Did I tell you that I've started getting feeling in my pedes again? Because I am! And he's to thank!" That brings smiles to the other three, but no one interrupts. "I've also been talking with Perceptor about something, and Rodimuc and Magnus and Jazz are always asking me to help them out in the command room with one plan or another. When I'm not on duty I'm on Earth doing readings, but you already know that so I don't know why I brought it up. So I've been keeping busy, busy, very busy indeed. May I ask what you've been doing? Huh? What've you been up to, Dan?"

Sideswipe has one optic cracked open and an optical-ridge raised a little bit. Blurr didn't talk with the same speed that he used to, but he sure as Pit still rambled. The optic closes again after a second, and the demolitionist remains still.

Daniel swallows the oversized bit he'd taken, then gulps down a swig of water before opening his mouth to answer. "Nothin' much. Dad's been teaching me some new techniques, and Rodimus and Bee do too when they've got time. This Saturday Wheelie an' I'l be going to r-...rr..."

Wheelie's optics widen a little, Sideswipe snaps one open to look to the human, and Bluestreak's gone before anyone even realizes he'd gotten up.

"...Be going to Earth. Tracks wants Raoul to meet Wheelie," he sort-of-lies. He'd caught himself quick enough that Blurr wasn't given much time to ponder what their human comrade was going to say. If he _had_ been given the time, the smallish blue mech wouldn't easily caught that Daniel was about to say 'race'. Bringing up races was a bad idea with poor Blurr around.

They're saved from an awkwardly uncomfortable talk when the communications officer's voice comes over the loudspeakers. * _This's Blaster speakin'- Rodimus Prime's requestin' that all officers report to the command room. Could all officers please be reportin' to the command room?*_ With a soft burst of static, the loudspeaker dies out. Blurr hits the buttons on his chair and is lowered to the ground; Sideswipe gets up immediately to help the mech get his crutches. Grapple, Hoist, Silverbolt, and Arcee had also gotten up from where they'd been sitting.

Wheelie knew that Blurr was in charge of the messengers and that Grapple and Hoist were heads of construction. Silverbolt was the Aerialbot leader, and...what was Arcee again..? Head trainer, that's it! She'd been given the rank pretty recently. The higher-ranked Autobots leave the room- Sideswipe following without a word, but then going in the opposite direction through the hall after they'd reached the door. He was demolition, but not an officer. The other Aeiralbots don't linger for much longer before they too leave and head in the same direction that Sides had taken.

That left just Wheelie and Danie-

The human's watch starts beeping at him, and the organic groans after looking at the message on its face. "Seriously...? Sorry buddy, but I gotta go. See ya later?"

Wheelie nods and gives a small wave, his shoulders slumping. The human pats his friend's shoulder then grabs his lunchbox and has his chair lower him. As soon as his feet hit the floor, Daniel's running out of the room.

With that, the Mini-Bot was left alone.

Or...at least he thought he'd been alone. He'd completely forgotten about the blue-armored mech alone in the corner. Wheelie watches him a moment- _still_ daydreaming? Sheesh. The guy have something wrong with his processors?

Wheelie shakes his head and sits back in his chair, sipping on his energon slowly. It's quiet for a while, and the young soldier wishes he'd brought a data-pad with him- he could've gotten some writing done. But as he doesn't, he closes his optics in this duration of silence- even if it might not last long.

The sound of movement catches his attention, so he opens crystal-blue optics- and gives a soundless yelp. Now sitting right across from him was the blue mech. The orange-armored journalist blinks twice, then upturns his palms with a quizzical expression. _'What?'_

"Sorry, didn't intend to starl you," the mech says, rubbing the back of his neck. "You're Wheelwasher, right? Saw you doing the servo-gestures earlier- hoped I'd be able to catch you alone."

Wheelie blinks again. Who was this guy...?

The mech reaches a servo across the table, and Wheelie tentatively shakes it. Either just being polite or seeing the dumbstruck face of the younger mech, the larger one introduces himself. "Name's Skids. I've read some of your works- pretty damn impressive considering your age compared to the lot of us. You dish out the poetry like it's nothing." Skids sits back after releasing Wheelie's servo and places his own in his lap. "Go ahead and use the gestures- I downloaded sign language long before I even know who the Quints were, let alone anyone knew you."

Wheelie lifts his right servo, watching the blue-armored mech cautiously as he starts signing. _'Just W-H-E-E-L-I-E,'_ he signs, _'real name only F-O-R-M-A-L.'_ The mech had to sign each individual letter of the word 'formal'- he'd never been able to find an actual sign for it, and apparently 'polite' was the closest. That didn't work very well here, though.

He raises an optical-ridge, watching the other; had Skids even caught any of that? Considering he nods, Wheelie assumes that the blue-armored mech had caught what he 'said'.

"Wheelie, huh? Odd nickname for a soldier to have." Wheelie doesn't sign anything. He knew his nickname was more of a kid-angled one- it's just what he preferred. He'd been called that for as long as he could remember- from his creators, to Varta, to the Quintessons during his Trial, and then now. "So what's with the poetry? You've got quite a bit of it."

 _'I once talked in verses.'_

"Really now?"

Wheelie makes the same knocking gesture he'd used for Daniel when they'd come into the rec room; _'Yes.'_ Why would he lie about that?

"Just messing with you, kid. I know you did."

The Mini-Bot blinks. How this mech know that? _'How?'_

"Look Wheelie, I know about every mecha on this base an more. You ask me about nearly anyone, and I'll be able to tell you the date, the battle, and the location that they lost a digit four hundred vorns ago. As long as the files hold the information, I know it."

The journalist can't help but cringe. Now that's just creepy...

Wheelie wants to change the subject, and quickly. He looks at the older mech, crystal blue optics narrowed a little. _'You look-like I-R-O-N-H-I-D-E.'_

"Huh. So someone else does his homework too, eh?"

The smaller mech doesn't sign anything. Kup had given him a list of war heroes to study when the Mini-Bot had been younger as 'schoolwork', as the old mech'd called it. Ironhide and Optimus Prime were the ones he remembered best- and this Skids had some similarities- especially his head!- so the red-armored veteran that Wheelie couldn't overlook anymore.

Skids just shrugs like it wasn't important. "Cousins," he says nonchalantly.

Wheelie nods. He didn't know Ironhide was related to the mech- but it _did_ make sense. The Mini-Bot opens his mouth, and his optics immediately turn dark red when no sound comes out- how embarrassing! The theoretician tips his head back and laughs in good humor. He leans over the table, fists a servo, and bumps it against the younger Autobot's shoulder. "Come on, kid- it's all good." Skids has a friendly smile on his lips- until it starts to fade to the sound of crashing steps coming to the room. "Great...hey, I gotta go..."

Not another word, and the blue-armored mech stands and hurries out of the room- squeezing past Sludge in the doorway on his way out. The Dino-Bot turns his head to look at the theoretician, and then he lumbers right on in and stops at the table Wheelie's still seated at. His long neck arcs down, and he brings his head level with the tiny mech. The brontosaurus mech rests his chin on the table, and Wheelie pats the beast's snout with a welcoming grin to the Dino-Bot. He then pulls back so that his servos can be free. _'Hello S-L-U-D-G-E. What's up?"_

Sludge lifts his head off the table so that he can speak. "Me Sludge come to see if you Wheelie want train with us Autobots at training field. Us Autobots doing flag-capture. Him Sideswipe ask Sludge to ask you Wheelie to come."

Wheelie grins and nods- he'd only been clocked for one patrol today, and he and Daniel had already finished it hours ago. He didn't have anything else to do until the evening- he'd be looking through reports and making sure that they're written up correctly. _'Yes.'_ The sign itself doesn't seem too excited, but the Mini-Bot was looking forward to this now!

A nod from the Dino-Bot, and Sludge backs away from the table before lowering his head to the floor. Wheelie drinks down the rest of his energon, lowers himself from the table, and then discards of the empty cube before running over to the brontosaurus. He pats the mech on the snout before climbing onto it and sitting cross-legged.

Sludge then raises his head slowly so that his passenger isn't knocked off, and he makes his way out of the recreation room. The Dino-Bot explains the groups that had already been chosen as he makes his way toward the outdoor training field.

"You Wheelie been put on team with me Sludge. We also with him Smokescreen and. . . ."


	3. Perception

_"Are you functioning properly? Whatever_ are _you doing upon the floor?"_

* * *

 **Look and Listen Book 1**

 **There's a Reason**

 **Chapter 3: Perception**

 **Rating: PG (implied relationships, malfunctioning prototype, physical disabilities)**

 **Major Characters: Wheelie, Perceptor, BELla**

 **POV: Wheelie**

* * *

Training had gone well.

Er... Somewhat? For Sideswipe's team, it'd gone exceptionally well! For the other two (the captains being Smokescreen for Wheelie's team and Streetwise for the third) it was just embarrassing. Wheelie's head was still sore from Eject tackling him and causing the back of the orange mini-Bot's head to strike the ground. And to add insult to injury, the Mini-Cassette had managed to take the flag Wheelie'd been tasked with guarding- earning the winning for his team and the loss for Wheelie's.

Eject had apologized about four times afterward while a very disgruntled First Aid had removed the dent from the Mini-Bot's helm. And now, Wheelie sits in an abandoned corridor with a data-pad in his lap, sitting with his legs criss-crossed and rubbing the back of his head every once in a while. He'd already typed up a detailed report of the training bout and transmitted it to the command room- the message showed him that it'd been opened pretty much immediately. Blaster must've been on duty after the officer meeting, if Wheelie was to guess.

So with that, the Mini-Bot thought it'd be a good time to work on some personal writing since none of his friends were available. Daniel had to run to Earth for some court-thing Wheelie didn't know anything about. Blurr had gone to First Aid after the meeting to have more work done to his neural line. Sideswipe had gone off on a patrol with Bumblebee. The Dino-Bots were all off doing their own thing or recharging. And then there was Kup- he...couldn't remember what an Autobot was after he'd woken up because of the call to the officers. It'd been suggested to the Mini-Bot that he leave his childhood caretaker alone for the time being because of it.

Wheelie vents and leans back against the wall- he hadn't heard so much as a pede-step since coming into this hallway. It was so underused that there was _dust_ on the floor that had been tracked into Headquarters from Earth. The young soldier could only see his own pede-prints in that dust.

The journalist lowers a servo and drags his rounded digits over the ground, making marks in the dust covering the orange surface. What could he work on? He's honestly got no ideas... Poetry maybe? Eh...he wasn't really in the mood for that...

He pulls a rag from subspace and wipes the dust from his digits, then returns that servo to the device in his lap. He opens up different files, reading them over- one after the other after the other. Right up until he finds one that's unfinished... The mech tilts his head and starts reading it over- and he cringes. This must've been one of his first attempts at writing when he was younger. It's...sad, really. He liked the idea though. Knights and ragons and casltes and...wait. The knight was a women and she had to rescue a prince? He vaguely remembers writing it- maybe he could start over?

Wheelie opens up a new file and he begins to write. One word finds its way onto the file, and then another and another. _Once upon a time..._ Yeah, that's how humans started their fairy tales, right? He liked it.

 _Once upon a time, there lived a prince in the Kingdom Travour._ He stops. Now what?

He scratches the back of his head, rubbing at the sore spot. He...really had no idea...

The young soldier's engine rumbles, and his lips move as if he was muttering something to himself. Which he actually would have been doing if he'd had the physical ability to speak. Writer's block. Heh. Humans got it- and it seemed like Cybertronians did too. Wheelie that's irritating...

The tile gets saved and then closed out, and Wheelie opens up another blank one. Well then...poetry it is!

He thinks for a few minutes, going over themes in his processors. So many things he could write about... He brings a servo up to his mouth and starts biting the knuckle of his index finger until his optics brighten when a thought comes to him. That's it!

 _When Panic speaks hamlessly,_  
 _When Fear can be seen,_  
 _When Blessings fall short,_  
 _When Hope seems but a distant sheen._

He liked that. Reading it over quick, he corrects his spelling mistake of 'hamlessly' to 'harmlessly'. Much better! _When Panic speaks_ harm _lessly._

Wheelie narrows his optics thoughtfully, tapping a digit against his chin.

 _We must keep figh-_ He stops and deletes the last four letters. That could be used in a second, but not yet.

 _We must keep marching,_  
 _We must not fall,_  
 _We must keep fighting,_  
 _We must not move to our knees and crawl._

He liked where this was going. It spoke of the Autobots, actually... Of Kup and Blurr and Sideswipe and Bluestreak- even himself! Maybe that's why it was so easy for him to work on this one compared to the knight story. Hey! He just came up with a title for it! _Knight's Tale._

Wheelie blinks. Wow. He was _definitely_ low on recharge. His thoughts were just all over the place right now. He huffs out a hot vent and turns off his device, then he leans back against the orange-panels wall and closes crystal blue optics. Maybe he could sleep for just a klick...

...

"Wheelwasher? Are you functioning properly? Wheelwasher?"

The young soldier starts, optics widened and digits immediately tightening around his weapon. He's got it pointed at whoever had spoken even before his systems wake up fully. The second he sees who it is, however, Wheelie's free servo fists into the 'A' shape and he rotates it over his chest in a clockwise motion. _'Sorry.'_

"Nothing to be of worry. Are you functioning properly? Whatever _are_ you doing upon the floor?"

His still-fisted servo finds his optics, and Wheelie rubs the sleep out of them while checking his chronometer. _Three hours?!_ He'd been recharging here for three hours?! The journalist slowly gets to his pedes, grimacing at the stiffness in his neck, back, and knees. Oh, he might need to run over to First Aid beofre he did anything laborious to get his gears oiled after that...

 _'I'm alright. Just sleeping. Do you need help?'_ He looks up at the taller mech as he stretches following his question, venting in satisfaction when some of the stiffness leaves his frame with that action.

Not particularly. Sludge simply informed me that you seemingly 'disappeared' after an extensive training exercise- it occurred to me that you may have been damaged. I searched Headquarters some before discovering your pede-prints in the dust leading here- this corridor is positively filthy..."

 _'P-E-R-C-Y.'_

"Ah, right. My humble apologies." Wheelie just rolls his optics and grins in good humor- he'd always liked Perceptor. Even if he didn't understand all the mech's science-y jargon... Then again; who _did_ understand all of it? The Technobots ( _especially_ combined into Computron), Rodimus (sometimes at least), Magnus, and Arcee, that's who.

Wheelie looks up as Perceptor's frame sinks down to one knee, and the journalist tilts his head a little. "Would you like to accompany me to my lab, Wheelie? I have a few current projects- one of which may be of some interest to you."

The smaller mech blinks, then he nods. _'A test?'_

"You can certainly say that, yes."

The scientist holds out his servos in offer to the young soldier. Wheelie in turn nods, and Perceptor picks him up and places the Mini-Bot on the shoulder opposite to his telescope. The orange-armored soldier crosses his ankles and holds his data-pad in his lap as the other mech walks. He can't help but notice how steady on his pedes Perceptor was. Unlike the Dino-Bots who stomped around and gave Wheelie some trouble staying one when he got rides from them around HQ, the scientist's steps are smooth and even- like he'd been taught how to walk right by balancing objects on his head.

 _'What test?'_ the mech asks- but Perceptor had been looking ahead and didn't see what Wheelie said. The soldier then taps the side of the scientist's head and asks again when the larger mech looks at him. _'What test?'_

Perceptor's careful with his vocaulary- picking words that he _knows_ his less scientifically-inclined comrade would understand. "Wait until we get to my lab to ask questions, Wheelie. Seeing this project may be plenty for you to know what I am working on."

A nod is accompanied by a vent, and Wheelie slouches his shoulders. It was hard getting a straight answer from Perceptor... Even if he _did_ speak in Layman's terms to you!

The rest of the walk's pretty quiet between the two- Wheelie not asking anything gives the older mech nothing to answer to.

Even when the doors into the mech's lab slide open, there's silence. But this time, it's a silence earned from curiosity and aw. This was one room that Wheelie'd never been in. It was so much technology in one place- he'd never thought it'd be possible to see so much at once. So many moving parts, so many glowing machines, schematics and blueprints, chemicals and vials, bowls and beakers. He can see protoforms floating in life-support systems for whenever they'd be needed, high-tech tools hanging neatly on one wall and in rows on tables.

 _'All yours?'_

The soldier catches the barest traces of a smirk on Perceptor's lips, and the red-armored mech nods. "Indeed. I have centuries of work into this laboratory."

A mechanical meow grabs the young soldier's attention. He looks up at where the sound came from, and a silver-plated mechanical feline stands up and stretches from the shelf it'd been resting on. It was a strange feline- more Earthen than Cybertronian. Wheelie'd seen the Mini-Cassette Ravage before- this feline wasn't like Ravage. It looked like it'd been molded exactly from a domestic Earth-cat's build.

Wheelie points up at the feline with a quizzical expression, and Perceptor only chuckles. The scientist holds one arm out, and the feline hops down from the shelf, onto the table below, and then scurries up the older mech's arm- finally settling on his telescope and sitting tall and proud. "This is Broadband Backup, Encryption, and Load Balancing- simply 'BELla' for short."

 _'Why B-E-L-L-A?'_

" _B_ roadband backup, _E_ ncryption, and _L_ oad ba _LA_ ncing," he answers, emphasizing the letters that made up the abbreviation for her name. "She is a working prototype meant to aid Blaster in his duties once she is finished."

 _'Not done?'_

"Much work to be done yet. She still malfunctions on nearly a cycle basis- though there had been much progress since the beginning of her project."

The matte-orange-armored mech nods as he's set down on an empty table- BELla follows his down, using Perceptor's outstretched arm like a bridge from his shoulder to the table. She purrs and bumps her head against Wheelie's. She might've been modeled after an Earth-cat, but she was definitely sized for a Cybertronian with her head being level with Wheelie's.

The mute soldier grins at the feline and rubs her between the ears, and then he looks up at Perceptor. _'Test?'_

"Yes, allow for me to pull up the information."

Wheelie nods as the scientist moves over to one of the many monitors in the room and turns his attention back to BELla. The feline meows and bumps her head against the soldier's chest- her ears and tail flicking just like they would on a domestic cat. Her silver plates were shaped to look like furred cheeks on her face, and her large eyes glowed crystal blue- just like most Autobots' did.

BELla sits back on her hind legs and puts her front paws on the soldier's chest- easily knocking him onto his back. Wheelie blinks, then just laughs silently when the feline lays her front paws and head on his chest. So much like an Earth cat...

"BELla: down," Perceptor orders as he returns to the table. The prototype looks up and meows, then hops down and onto the floor so that Wheelie's able to sit up. The scientist pulls up a chair so that he's able to sit next to Wheelie (a data-pad now in his servo) and BELla jumps up into Perceptor's lap the second he sits down.

Perceptor puts the data-pad down on the table and activates a file while Wheelie pushes his own off to the side so that he's able to focus on the scientist's. Coding scrolls over the screen, and then equations, and a blueprint loads in last. The journalist tips his head and reads over notes placed on the blueprint. His optics widen and a servo reaches up to his throat as he looks to Perceptor.

The scientist nods. "First Aid and myself have been working on this for some time now. The damage your intake sustained had been severe, but we have the belief that we have successfully been working around the damage with this project. It should be no more than two years until you are again able to articulate, Wheelwasher."

Wheelie smiles while rounded digits trace the faded, nearly smooth welds on his throat where a vocoder used to set. He brings his digits to his lips while keeping a flat hand, then moves it forward and downward.

"It is not I you should thank- Blurr is the one whom brought up the idea to First Aid and myself."

The younger mech nods. It doesn't mean he wasn't thankful to Perceptor though- he was still working on this project, even if Blurr was the one who'd come up with it.

At most, it'd be two years- then he'd be able to talk again. Primus... It's hard to think of. Wheelie looks over the information that the scientist leaves in front of him, even though Perceptor himself gets up and goes over to a different monitor from where he'd retrieved the information for Wheelie. The one he goes to has a blueprint, but the soldier can't quite read anything the screen has from the distance he's at.

Oh well. Whatever it was was probably just one of Percy's personal projects. He had a lot of those. Wheelie returns attention to the data-pad as BELla hops up next to him and sits by his side, rubbing his face against the oarange-armored mech's shoulder and purring loudly. Wheelie for the most part ignores her, too engrossed in the information in front of him to pay much attention to the robotic feline.

The thought of being able to speak again... If he wasn't so good at keeping his emotions in check, he'd probably be close to tears right now. Oh wait 'til Kup found out! Unless...Kup already knew. On second thought, chances were that his childhood caretaker did already know. Why wouldn't he be told? He'd have to be, wouldn't he?

Wheelie blinks. Wow. He was _still_ tired, so his thoughts were _still_ all over the place...

The mech vents when information starts disappearing from the data-pad, and he revs his engine (startling BELla so that she scampers off) to get Perceptor's attention. The points frantically at the device as soon as the scientist turns. The red-armored mech approaches, takes one look at the fading information, then turns right back around and returns to the monitor. "A simple fail safe, Wheelie. That information has Autobot technology- when it is downloaded it only remains on the device for so long before the information erases itself to prevent possible copying of our technology. It is still in the data-banks of the original machine, but no longer held within the data-pad."

Wheelie nods and vents in relief, the hot air huffing out of the vents at the back of his head.

He looks up at the monitor Perceptor had moved back to. He laughs silently when BELla uses the scientist's head as a springboard to get onto a shelf that she'd otherwise been unable to reach with him in the way of the monitor that she could've used. Crystal blue optics looked up to the feline, lips pressed together in annoyance like that was something she did often, then he looks back at Wheelie when the younger mech gives a waving gesture to get his attention again. Wheelie points at the monitor, then upturns his palms with a quizzical expression.

"This is nothing you need worry yourself over. A personal project, that is all."

His gives the scientist an unimpressed look and then just rolls his optics. Scientists were hard to understand sometimes.

Wheelie lifts his servos again to ask something, but they immediately find their way to the sides of his head instead. BELla had sat up on her shelf, and now an audio-splitting, high-pitched screeching was leaving her open mouth. Perceptor had visibly jumped before he'd started scrabbling to grab the feline. He managed to pull her off the shelf and manually shut her off with a switch behind her right ear.

The scientist shakes his head and puts the currently offline robot on an empty table, and then he kneels down in front of Wheelie. The mech sees Perceptor's lips moving, but signs _'Can't hear'_ for him.

The red mech nods and lifts his own servos, signing for Wheelie to readjust his audios internally, and that he'd do touch-ups.

It takes only minutes before the Mini-Bot's able to hear again. He looks up at Perceptor expectantly with one optical-ridge raised.

"As I have stated: she still malfunctions on nearly a cycle basis. That screech is by far her worst malfunction I have yet seen. It startled Rodimus half to deaht the first time she did it."

Wheelie nods. _'Can fix her?'_

"Why certainly! It is just a matter of..." Percy stops. That's be getting into too much scientific detail with his less-scientifically inclined comrade. "I will simply have to look over each problem individually and fix them one at a time."

Perceptor holds out his servos, and Wheelie nods after picking u phis personal data-pad. The scientist picks the Mini-Bot up without trouble and sets him on the floor.

Wheelie takes one last look around the room, and then waves to the older mech to indicate his departure.

"Wheelwasher," the other mech says before the soldier can even turn around, "if you ever need anything, know that you are always welcome here."

The mech nods and turns around. The doors open in front of him before the scientist calls to him yet again. "Wheelie..." a short hesitation, "If you happen across Blaster do you mind directing him here?"

The journalist blinks. What would Perceptor need Blaster in here for? Sure BELla was built to help him, but he couldn't _possibly_ help Perceptor correct her malfunctions could he? He simply gives a thumbs-up without turning around- then he departs.

* * *

 **AN:** BELla's my first ever oc! ^w^ She's not very important for the story, but I thought she'd be good practice.


	4. On Track

_"On your marks... Get set... GO!"_

* * *

 **Look and Listen Book 1**

 **There's a Reason**

 **Chapter 4: On Track**

 **Rating: PG (physical disabilities, light language)**

 **Major Characters: Wheelie, Daniel, Chip Chase, Jazz, Tracks**

 **POV: Wheelie**

* * *

"Come on Wheelie; faster! They're gonna start without us!"

If the Mini-Bot'd been able to in his alt. mode, he would've rolled his optics- that wasn't the first time in the last five minutes Daniel had said that. Words start scrolling across the screen on the orange mech's dashboard; the letters in plain English. _Shut up and let me drive._

Daniel looks at the screen in disbelief as the words keep scrolling across it in a loop. "Did you just...?" The organic busts out laughing and slams one fist onto the Autobot's wheel. An almost high-pitched honk leaved the car, and Wheelie's front tires swerve a little until he's able to regain control. _CAREFUL!_ the screen reads in big, all capital letters. _You know my steering's touchy, Dan._

"I know, I know. Sorry buddy..." Daniel has a sheepish expression as he sinks into the driver's seat and crosses his arms over his chest. After that the rest of the drive goes pretty quietly and with no other incidents.

Wheelie's hatch opens up after he comes to a stop where the other 'bots and humans were gathered, and Daniel clamors out and onto the sandy ground. The young mech stays in his alt. mode- currently the only mecha _not_ in their alternative mode was Tracks. The young human goes to talk with the others organics as they go over rules and the course with each other.

Tracks transforms down into his alternate mode and roles over to where Wheelie's parked. "You have done this circuit before, right?" When there's only silence from the Mini-Bot, the older mech gives and awkward chuckle and transforms into his root mode. "Well, come on then." Wheelie quickly follows suit and looks up at the taller mech as Tracks takes to one knee and gets as close to optic-level as possible. "You have done it before haven't you?"

This time, with his servos actually available, the young Autobot's able to answer. _'Yes. One time with other M-I-N-I-B-O-T-S.'_

"Alright, good. Bumblebee part of that company?"

 _'Yes.'_

"Good. Then you should know the obstacles."

Wheelie nods. _'Tunnel. S-L-O-P-E. That some.'_

"Yes. Those are some of the most difficult. Dan has done the circuit more often than you though- be sure to listen to him on directions, you hear me?"

A nod and thumbs-up are given by the mute soldier; Tracks returns the gesture, and then both mechs return to their alternate modes.

"Alright, listen up!" Raoul shouts to get everyone's attention. The man's hair falls over his eyes a little after he combs his fingers through it before he ties an old, ragged bandanna around his forehead to keep jet black locks out of his face. "Hound an' 'Cee're new to The Circuit, so be sure to give 'em some help if they need it! Chip's also chosen to take part, so we won't have him watching the finish line for the true winners- that means remain truthful when an' if you pass that line!" The organic looks right at Spike, then the little yellow buggy that revs his engine with annoyance.

"It was one time!" Bumblebee retorts.

If he'd had the physical ability, Wheelie would've laughed. Instead, his engine just hums softly while the others snicker.

"Quiet down!" The male puts his hands in the air and slowly lowers them- like he was trying to turn the volume down on _everyone_. "Remember, this's team racing! Autobots: you're not allowed to steer yourselves unless your driver's about to run you into something, but you've got full control of your pedals! Organics: we've got full control of the wheel, but we're not allowed to touch the pedals unless our partner's about to run us into something! Both will share control in shifting gears!"

Spike takes a step forward and puts a hand on his old friend's shoulder. "As for the teams: Jazz is paired with Poplock. Hound, you're with Rocksteady. Arcee and Carly."

The human female smiles and looks to the pink-and-white car. "We'll take these boys down."

Spike laughs and shakes his head before continuing. "Bluestreak will be Chip's partner. Danny, you're with Wheelie." Daniel grins and the Mini-Bot honks twice. "Raoul and Tracks will be together, naturally. And I'm with Bee. Everyone remembers who they're with?"

The organics give thumbs-ups or shouts of affirmative; the Autobots honk or rev their engines.

"Alright, then let's get with your partners!"

The next minute or so there's a lot of scuffling feet and slamming doors as the humans hop into their partner's alt. modes. Once everyone's with their partner, the Autobots' radios get a ping coming from Tracks' communicator and Raoul's voice is heard through the radio. "Alright, everyone to the starting line! Once we're settled we'll have Chip count us down."

"You got it."

"Sure thing."

"On it!"

All seven teams pull up to the starting line while Chip works on setting up his computer on Bluestreak's dash. When the human talks, his voice is broadcasted into the other six's radios. It's simply their communications, but in their alt. modes it definitely sounds like it comes from the radio itself. * _Alright, ah...I've got cameras set up around the track and two at the starting/finish line. I just need to...and...there! Okay, my system's good to go. I'll be able to keep an eye on things even though I'll be taking part, now.*_

Raoul's voice comes over the radio. _*But I thought-*_

 _*I didn't think I would. But I got here early so I had Blue here help me out in setting them up.*_

 _*Gotcha. That'll sure make it easier. Keep an eye on Bee, then.*_

 _*Come on! It was one damn time!*_

Laughing from multiple humans and Cybertronians is heard over the comm.s before Chip starts the countdown. * _On your marks... Get set... GO!*_ Bluestreak honks loudly for the starting 'gun' as soon as the last word leaves his driver.

Engines roar and tires spin out as they try to get traction in the sand. Hound is the first to take off, followed closely by Tracks, Wheelie, and Jazz; the rest take a tad longer before they're able to shoot through the sand.

 _*Hound and Rocksteady have the lead!*_ Chip announces through the comm.s, watching both the track and his laptop's screen. _*However, Tracks and Wheelie are right behind him- and they're being tailed closely by Jazz!*_

Daniel grins, watching the screen on Wheelie's dashboard that let him see the track. His friend had hatch-top windows, but not ones that let the passenger see the road- Perceptor had built the viewing system for the Mini-Bot to allow his passengers to actually see what was going on ahead and behind. "Wheelie, faster!" he shouts out.

 _'Right on his tailpipe!'_ the Mini-Bot 'says' with the dash-screen just under the viewing screen.

"Yeah, but so's Tracks. An' we got Jazz on ours."

 _*And Jazz and Poplock pull ahead to take the lead!*_

 _*What?!*_

 _*Nuh-uh, no way!*_

 _*Dammit! Not again!*_

Multiple ranting voices come over the comm.s- Daniel's included among them. He leans forward in the Mini-Bot's single seat, holding the wheel in a white-knuckle grip. He looks at the rearview screen and curses in English. He jerks the steering wheel to the left, causing them to cut right in front of Bumblebee. From in the yellow buggy, Spike honks the horn and glares daggers at the orange Quint-car that's easily seen through Bee's windshield.

 _*A dirty maneuver from Wheelie and Dan that cuts off Bumblebee and Spike from pulling any further ahead!*_ Chip narrates as he and Bluestreak inch past Arcee, coming up behind said little yellow buggy.

 _*Hey, why don' ya try passin' us instead'a payin' attention t' the slow-pokes!*_ Poplock mocks from Jazz's driver's seat.

The SIC forgets to turn off his end of the comm. as he tightens the seatbelt around his passenger in scolding, causing Poplock to yelp. _*Ain't no need for mockin' the other racers,*_ he growls, then immediately turns off his communications. Clearly, even though they can't hear Jazz and his driver anymore, Poplock's still being scolded since Jazz starts falling behind. Hound passes him. Then Tracks and Wheelie. Then Bumblebee, before he swerves a second and tries to regain his lead.

 _*Ouch! That fallback's definitely gonna take a while to recover from!*_

A smiley face pops up on Wheelie's dash-screen. Daniel looks down at it and rolls his eyes with a grin. "You frickin' troll. What've ya got in mind?" The human's brown eyes shift between the screen and track continuously as his grin grows. "Oooh, yeah. Let's do it!"

The young mech's almost high-pitched horn beeps twice and his gas pedal hits the floor as he speeds up. The desert was _Wheelie's_ fragging territory. Tracks made a mistake inviting him here!

Daniel turns the wheel whenever the words come up on the dash for him to do so, causing Wheelie to zig-zag in front of the racers still behind them, preventing them from moving any closer ahead.

 _*Agh! Another dirty maneuver from Wheelie and Daniel! They're full of this sh-*_ Bluestreak cuts off his comm. before Chip's able to finish- he wasn't really one who liked cussing. Be it Earthen or Cybertronian. It really wasn't much of a surprise that he'd cut Chip off before any of the other racers could hear him.

 _*Well Chip, we've got a lot more up our sleeve!*_ Daniel laughs as he jerks the wheel to the right and toward the Tunnel- a portion of the old Outpost that had collapsed, leaving it in a tunnel shape that could be a maze if you didn't pay attention once you entered it.

 _*No shi-*_ the comm. is cut off momentarily before Chip's voice is heard again. _*Hound and Rocksteady are the first to enter the Tunnel, folks! They're still being tailed by Tracks and Raoul with Wheelie and Daniel right at their side, however!*_

Wheelie's lights turn on when he enters the Tunnel in third place- Tracks able to pull ahead in the last second before they'd entered. Now, all he could do was keep up until they got out of the old Outpost. _'Hope you know where you're going, Dan,'_ the dash-screen reads, and the human nods.

"Yeah, 'course I do! Unlike _you_ ," he pokes the steering wheel, _"I've_ done this circuit dozens of times!"

 _'Well then shut up and drive!'_

The organic grins and rolls his eyes. "Then floor it, Wheelie!"

Left. Right. Right. Left.

They can see Tracks' taillights ahead of them, looking like eerie red eyes in the darkness, and can see Jazz's headlights bathing them in white light from behind.

 _*Hound and Rocksteady make it out of the Tunnel!*_

They can see light ahead of them.

 _*Tracks and Raoul make it out of the Tunnel!*_

The orange Quintessonian car swerves momentarily when his driver's blinded by the sunlight.

 _*Wheelie and Daniel make it out of the Tunnel!*_

They hear Chip announce each racer's exit. The intervals between each announcement tells them about how far behind or ahead each racer is from them. Hound is somehow a good five hundred feet ahead; Tracks about a hundred or so. Jazz is right on their tai-...right in front of them. Well, his lead-loss sure as heck didn't last long...

Wheelie's engine rumbles in its strange, non-Earth or Cybertronian-way. _'Come the frag on!'_ his screen reads, mechanisms under Daniel's seat clicking as the young soldier shifts gears. It takes all of his willpower not to take control of his wheel- and Danny can sure tell because for a second there it's difficult for him to turn it.

"We can 'least try staying ahead of Bee, Blue, and Arcee- ya got that? S'long as we can stay ahead of _them_ , we can _at least_ get fourth!"

A long list of profanity scrolls over the screen in answer.

* * *

 **AN:** Place your bets! I'm sure Smokescreen will be happy to take them


	5. Off Track

_"'Course they attack a race! It's always the fraggin' races!"_

* * *

 **Look and Listen Book 1**

 **There's a Reason**

 **Chapter 5: Off Track**

 **Rating: PG-13 (violence/gore, physical disabilities, light language)**

 **Major Characters: Wheelie, Daniel, Jazz, Tracks, Surprise Guest(s)**

 **POV: Wheelie**

 **Teams: Wheelie + Daniel. Hound + Rocksteady. Tracks + Raoul. Jazz + Poplock. Bumblebee + Spike. Arcee + Carly. Bluestreak + Chip.**

* * *

 _*Hound and Rocksteady, Tracks and Raoul, and Jazz and Poplock are making their way toward the Slope!*_ Chip narrates over the comm. links as he and Bluestreak struggle to stay ahead of Arcee and Bumblebee.

Daniel grinds his teeth and grips the wheel tight enough to make Wheelie uncomfortable. A few little jerks of it from the Mini-Bot and the organic loosens his grip, only to tighten it again after a few seconds of staring down Jazz's taillights. Eventually, Wheelie just decides to deal with it; Danny was stubborn just like his old man. And considering the grumbling and curses from Bumblebee heard over the comm.s, as well as the occasional 'Would you loosen your fraggin' hands?!', that's where Danny'd also gotten his grip from.

The orange-plated Mini-Bot feels his wheels shifting as Daniel steers him up the steep Slope- they pass both Tracks and Jazz, who look like they're having trouble going up it and slide backward a little with every few feet they progress. Their alts definitely weren't made for the sand. But Hound's Jeep mode and Wheelie's Quintessonian car-mode weren't having much trouble at all. Wheelie also had the advantage of having _lived_ in a desert for...how long...? A couple Earth-years at least.

"Floor it Wheelie!" Daniel shouts- only to get words thrown back at him over the Mini-Bot's dash-screen.

 _'Frag no. Are you stupid?'_

"I...- Hey! Come on! You wanna win this or not?!"

 _'Lived in a desert long enough to know you can't just 'floor it' going up a dune.'_

"...Oh yeah. Right...sorry buddy."

If it wasn't for the size of Wheelie's engine, it would've been giving an impressive growl as he tore up the sand on his way up the dune, his tires spraying it back at a severely annoyed Tracks and Jazz who were still struggling. Over Wheelie's comm., the Mini-Bot and his passenger can hear a mixture of laughing, muttering, and cursing from different racers as they fall behind the two best built for the sand: Hound and Wheelie.

 _*The kids're beatin' all of you!*_ the old mech laughs over the comm.s, Rocksteady and Daniel joining in. Wheelie just honks.

 _*Zip it!*_

*Shut up, Hound!*

*Shut up,

all of you _!*_

Daniel rolls his eyes and just keeps steering his partner until they reach the top of the dune, then he takes a sharp left. ...Only to have Hound throw up a bunch of sand at the much smaller 'bot. Danny accidentally swerves the wheel and Wheelie tries to catch himself before they ended up sliding to the bottom of the dune. "Agh... Sorry buddy!"

 _'Just get us in the right direction frag it!'_

"Uh...hasn't Kup been tryin' to get you to stop cussi-..."

 _'Blurr.'_ The mech's dash-screen beats the human before he's able to finish with a correction. _'Kup gave up years ago.'_

"Oh. Right."

Awkward silence ensues, filled only by the Mini-Bot's engine.

Chip's voice over the comm.s also penetrates the quiet after a while. _*Hound's keeping stubborn hold of the lead with Wheelie in a distant second and Jazz quickly catching up! This's gonna end up a close-... Wait...what's that? Wait! Wait! Racers, get off the frickin' track!*_

Daniel doesn't move his hands, so Wheelie instinctively takes control and swerves right before a barrage of fire can meet him head-on. The Mini-Bot does a one-eighty and takes off in the opposite direction- it looks like he's ready for a collision course with the racers who'd been behind him. He honks his horn frantically and feels Danny's hands tightening uncomfortably on his wheel in panic- nothing he can do about it unfortunately.

The others get the mute mech's message and all make tight turns so they can head in the opposite direction- then they scatter. Each Autobot takes full control of their steering and shifting as they split from each other to make it harder for their attackers to take them all out. Over the comm.s, they can hear a transformation sequence, then Jazz's voice and clanging metal. _*'Course they attack a race! It's always the fraggin' races!*_ That immediately tells them who their attackers were- as if they didn't at least have a hunch before. Decepticons. Frag... _*Get the humans somewhere outta the...argh...the battle. NOW!*_ the SIC orders, growling as he tussles with whatever 'con he'd met up with.

Multiple answers of affirmative answer from 'bots and organics alike. Engines roar and blaster fire rings out. The well-trained 'bots remain at least somewhat calm- with the exception of Bluestreak shouting and yelping as he tries to drive to a good spot he could snipe from and also keep Chip safe and Bumblebee cursing and driving in donuts of varying sizes.

Over the comm.s, the others can hear what sounds like a crash and then a groan from Rocksteady. _*Dammit!*_ Jazz shouts- again they hear the SIC transforming, but this time into his alt. mode, and he takes off- probably in the direction of Hound if Wheelie was to guess.

The first thought that keeps replaying in the Mini-Bot's processors are that he needs to get Danny away from the track, and then he needs to come back after that to help his fellow Autobots. Hound was already down and Jazz wouldn't be available until he at least got the older mech a field patch until First Aid was able to-... Wheelie slams his brakes and starts sliding a little ways just at Tracks, in his vehicle mode, flips over Wheelie's hood- just barely missing landing on top of the Mini-Bot as he's thrown to the side and _bounces_ in the sand after he lands because of the force that'd been used. The orange Quint-car backs up as quickly as he's able to when he catches sight of Astrotrain in his root mode, making a B-line straight for Tracks- who's currently stuck upside down and still in his vehicle mode. His driver's side window is cracked, Wheelie notes. His thoughts immediately drift to whether Raoul was still in there or not. Tracks' communications were out, so he couldn't hear whether the human was still there or not.

The triple-changer Decepticon Astrotrain picks up the flight-capable car, servo gripping Tracks' hood hard enough for his digits to start denting it and making the mech cry out as his hood's crushed. Daniel shouts from in Wheelie's cab when Astrotrain digs his digits into the older mech's driver's side door and wrenches it of. It earns another cry, and also reveals the mech's unconscious passenger Tracks holds into the seat stubbornly with the seat belt. The 'con sneers and tosses the mech so that he hits the ground hard for the second time- this time around, Raoul's thrown out and doesn't move when he hits the sand.

Wheelie's frozen in place at the sight, not knowing whether to try helping or to get Danny to safety first- he only moves because Daniel takes control of his wheel and pedals and steers him toward Bluestreak and Chip's location. _'Announce over the fragging comm.s that Tracks needs help immediately!'_ the Mini-Bot orders over his dash-screen at his partner after regaining his thought-process.

"You got it, buddy! Jazz? Bee? Arcee? Tracks really needs help right now! Raoul was just thrown out and Tracks' hood's partly crushed and driver's side door was pulled off. Don't know their current situation- headed toward Bluestreak now."

Arcee answers the call right away. _*I'm on it!*_

Wheelie races across the sand, taking full control again. He needed to get Danny to safety, then he needed to come right back here and help out as much as he could. Agh...where'd Bluestreak gone? Wheelie swore he jus-... A large hand grabs his hood and flips the Mini-Bot. The survivalist is in the air before he even realizes what had happened. He feels himself turning, spinning, through the air; feels Daniel holding his wheel in a death-grip and trying to stay in his seat even when gravity tries to pull him out of it and toward Wheelie's canopy. The Mini-Bot tightens his harness around Danny's chest at the last possible second, and then he hits the sand on his right side. Daniel groans when he hits his head on the dash, and then he just hangs in his seat after being taken by unconsciousness.

Wheelie starts honking frantically to try getting another 'bot's attention. He couldn't transform with Danny strapped into his cab unconscious, and he couldn't right himself while on his side in the _fragging sand_ either.

He hears an engine and starts revving his own until Bumblebee comes into view. His fellow Mini-Bot speeds his way, then transforms and slides through the sand- stopping right before he reaches the Quint-car. The yellow buggy grunts and turns Wheelie over back onto his wheels, then Wheelie's hatch pops open and harness releases Daniel. Bee blinks a second, then carefully scoops the human out- finally letting the survivalist transform and ready his slingshot. Bumblebee runs with the injured human before Wheelie can even lift his free hand to sign something- the slightly smaller orange Mini-Bot doesn't move for a second until he's sure Danny'd be safe, then he lets his engine growl and takes off in the direction of the closest blaster fire.

His run doesn't last long before the ground starts to shake under his pedes. The sand shifts all around him and Wheelie nearly falls back on his aft before digging his toes into the ground beneath him. His engine growls again and arms virtually windmill so he can keep his balance.

An earthquake? _Now_ of all ti-...

Oh.

Wait.

...That isn't good.

He hears it. The ground starts splitting, groaning, the sand sounding like rain as it falls, falls, falls- devoured by the gaping mouth in the ground that grows larger with each second. The Mini-Bot bares his chipped dentia and loses his balance so that he falls forward and lands on his knees. He spreads his digits out and keeps flat palms to the ground, cringing a little as sand gets into the sensitive seams.

Bright, crystal colored optics look up and follow the line that is the crack in the ground until they meet the bloody red eyes of a bluish armored Mini-Bot. The 'con smirks and then finally lifts his arms to stop the ground's quaking- pile-drivers transforming back into arms. The mech takes one of his blasters off his back and starts firing in Wheelie's direction- the orange mech just growls and throws himself into a somersault to avoid being hit.

He'd been shot once. It wasn't going to happen again.

Wheelie hits his knees when he finishes his roll- as soon as he does, he's got a pellet ready and fitted into his weapon. He barely aims for more than five seconds before releasing the pellet and immediately fitting another into the pouch just as the 'con yelps and grabs his left arm.

"Hey Auto-brat! Come an' fight me like a _real_ mech!" the Mini-Con taunts after brushing some energon off his arm where the pellet had hit.

Rumble. Always such a cocky little hellion...

The petite warrior narrows his optics and rises to his pedes slowly, keeping his slingshot at the ready. He and Rumble start taking slow steps toward each other, both aiming their weapons at vital points on the other's frames: Wheelie at Rumble's exposed neck, and Rumble at Wheelie's head. One step. A second. A third. The survivalist sees the other Mini-Bot's trigger-finger twitch. His optics narrow, and then he dives right before the Decepticon pulls the trigger and shoots the spot he'd been standing just a few seconds ago.

Rumble cusses while the Autobot (naturally) stays quiet. The Quint-car's expression is hard to read- even in his narrowed optics. Wheelie'd always been good at suppressing his emotions when he wanted to- _alarmingly_ good at it sometimes. He simply glares down his opponent without so much as twitching. He'd gotten pretty good at that on Quintessa, too. Sharkticons had more trouble noticing something that wasn't moving after all.

The orange armored mech waits... He waits... And then he jolts forward like a sudden storm, barreling into the Mini-Con with a roar from his engine and a loud clanging of metal. Both mechs find themselves hitting the sand and tumbling away from the gaping crevice in the earth's surface as they grapple, trying to get hold of each other's weapons. They claw at optics, reach for throats, and batter dents into each other with fist and pede.

Wheelie's right hand finds his opponent's left shoulder, so he forces his digits under the thick plating there until he's able to feel wiring. He starts pulling at it, which causes sparking and makes energon and oil start running down the 'con's arm- a cry splits Rumble's vocoder as a response. The blue mech throws his head forward, and as soon as their foreheads meet Wheelie sees stars. The younger mech falls back into the sand, dizzied by the blow from the more thickly armored Decepticon. The Mini-Cassette only sneers and moves over the 'bot, wrapping his surprisingly strong hands around Wheelie's neck. Rumble's thumbs press into the old scars on the Mini-Bot's throat, where a vocoder used to set, and Wheelie huffs out a choked vent as the grip gradually starts tightening to cut off the energonflow to his head. The 'bot lifts his chin and grabs Rumble's wrists, trying to pry the 'con's hands off his neck with no such luck.

When he keeps struggling, the blue armored mech knees him roughly in the abdomen. The action almost makes Wheelie purge, but the digits around his neck stop him from actually being able to get anything up. The orange mech bares his dentia in a silent snarl at his opponent when he's able to regain his senses, and he tightens his own hands on the 'con's wrists until the gears start creaking from tension.

Rumble growls and releases Wheelie's neck before his wrists could be broken- but he doesn't fully get up until after throwing a hard punch at the left side of the younger mech's jaw so that it cracks. The Mini-Cassette backs up a few steps, now holding his injured shoulder with a cold glint in his red optics.

Wheelie staggers to his own pedes the second he's able to, rubbing at his neck with one hand and his misaligned jaw with the other.

Even though the 'con stands with his arms pulled against himself so that he can cradle his injured one (because _apparently_ squeezing another mech's neck strained the shoulder) it's still clear in his stance that he's ready to continue fighting. "Come on puny mech! What are ya? A sparkling?! Ha! Why don't ya go an' cry back to your carrier."

Wheelie rolls his optics and makes a 'blah-blah-blah' motion with his hand that anyone could recognize- it immediately makes the short fuse of a 'con upset. He aims his white blaster at the survivalist again while holding his left arm against his chest- Wheelie flips his slingshot around so that he's no longer holding the handle that was also the barrel of his gun. He aims it at Rumble, lowering his hand that had still been on his jaw. For now he wouldn't be able to open his mouth until First Aid was able to fix it.

 _*Autobots: fall back!*_ Jazz orders over the comm.s right before grunting in pain and then transforming.

The Mini-Bot blinks. Already? Hadn't it just started?

Never mind that. It was a direct order from his superior for them to get outta there.

Wheelie gets ready to transform and race away from his opponent- but then he hears Tracks and it distracts his attention. He glances back over his shoulder to see the mech now in his primary mode, battered and beaten, but dueling with Astrotrain alongside Arcee. One of his optics is offline, chest-panel partially caved in, one arm almost completely stripped of its armor, and one of his wings broken and laying off to the side of where they fight. He looks furious, however, and doesn't seem to want to back down to get out of the fight as ordered by the SIC. The young soldier grimaces as Astrotrain's fist meets the older mech's already battered chest, knocking Tracks to the ground and out cold.

"Wheelie!" He blinks when he hears Bluestreak call his name. He turns toward the voice...

...And immediately sees Rumble's pile-driver leveled with his head. Wheelie's optics widen and the 'con just smirks.

He doesn't even have time to flinch before it's lights out.


	6. Battle Damaged

**Look and Listen Book 1**

 **There's a Reason**

 **Chapter 6: Battle Damaged**

 **Rating: PG-13 (mentions of violence, hospitals, physical disabilities, comatose states, minor language)**

 **Major Characters: Spike, Carly, Rocksteady, Daniel. Kup, Blurr, First Aid, Wheelie**

 **POV: Spike (first part). Kup (second part)**

* * *

Spike was furious with himself more than anyone else. When he was a kid the Decepticons had attacked two races that he'd been participating in. He should've known it would happen again eventually. Now granted the Circuit was a common weekend event that Raoul and Tracks scheduled with anyone who wanted to join in- but still. Carly hadn't been injured- and neither had he. Daniel had been, though. And so had his son's best friend. The human can't help grimacing as he thinks about one of those pile-drivers pounding someone's head in and how easily they'd be able to actually do it. It's a miracle in and of itself that Wheelie'd survived without permanent damage to his processors, First Aid had said the day following the fight while looking over scans of Wheelie's systems.

They had three humans in the hospital and four 'bots under First Aid's watch all because they just wanted to enjoy themselves. It wasn't fair.

The attack on the race had already been a week ago- Spike visited Daniel and Rocksteady on a daily basis. He wanted to see Raoul too; unfortunately, his old friend was comatose and visits didn't do much but add worry and guilt to the man's heart. The same went for Wheelie. The young soldier hadn't woken up since his fight with Rumble ended so gruesomely.

Every time Spike bridged himself to Cybertron to see the juvenile, Kup and Blurr were there- sometimes sleeping, sometimes watching over the much younger 'bot, and sometimes speaking in hushed voices with each other or First Aid, Sideswipe, or Rodimus.

Daniel asked how Wheelie was every day. And every day it was the same answer: 'He's stable.' Then he'd ask about Raoul and Tracks. Spike never answered.

First Aid had a Hell of a time making repairs on Tracks because he wanted to stay with Raoul- or, as close as he could without using his human holoform. Raoul had already been through surgery twice to stabilize him. His heartbeat was always irregular and a nurse had once leaned in to whisper to Spike: _"He may not wake up, you know."_

 _"Does Tracks know?"_

 _"We've told the Autobot multiple times. He...refuses to believe it."_

How could something so harmless as a good race between friends end with so many injured? Spike runs his fingers through his hair and closes his eyes as he stops in the hospital's hallway directly between Rocksteady and Daniel's rooms.

"Spike?" He feels familiar hands get placed on his shoulders, leading him toward the nearest chairs. Carly pushes him softly into the chair, then he hears her dragging another one over the floor so she can sit directly across from him. He keeps his eyes closed and leans over his knees- but he does look up when his wife takes one hand gently into both of her smaller ones. "You didn't know it would happen. You couldn't have known. And at least no one was killed, right?"

The man nods numbly.

"Then don't blame yourself." Carly sighs and then giggles a little. "You're kinda acting like Sparkplug would have if he was in your place, you know."

Spike gives a light smile at that. "Dad would beat me over the head if he was here."

"Ha! You know he would." She brushes a few stray hairs out of the man's face and kisses his forehead in a reassuring way. "Why don't we go see the others now? Poplock's already in there, so I bet he's talking poor Rocksteady's ear off."

A pause, and then a nod and Spike allows himself to be pulled back to his feet. It's not long at all before they enter Rocksteady's room. They pull the usual routine: Carly walking up beside Poplock so that they can chat with the bedridden man, while Spike looks at the clipboard at the foot of the bed.

 _Charles Hem._ Big, messily scribed letters read the man's actual name that he literally never went by- even now that he was too old to break-dance. The Bop Crew still stuck together, but they were quite a bit older now. But there were some nicknames that just stuck no matter what- Poplock and Rocksteady's being definite inclusions to that.

His left arm had multiple fractures in it, four broken ribs, whiplash, and a broken collar bone- yet he still grins like an idiot.

Spike stands back up from a kneeling position and leaves the clipboard hanging at the end of the bed. He shakes the other man's uninjured hand once and then takes a step back beside Poplock and Carly. "Heeey, Rocky. How ya feeling?"

"Heh. It's the Dancitron all over again. But worse."

Poplock crosses his arms and elbows Spike right the ribs, earning a grimace from the slightly younger man. "Do. Not. Talk 'bout that damn place, Rocky."

"You guys never did tell us the whole story about that place," Spike butts in. "Come on, gotta tell us sometime!"

"The Hell we do!" Poplock snorts, and then both he and Rocksteady start laughing. "But really Spike- that's more a question for Tracks or Ra...aaa...Blaster."

Rocky's grin fades, and so does everyone else's at the near slip-up. "Any'a ya seen Raoul today? S'there progress or...?"

"Poppy can fill you in," Spike answers, "since he saw Raoul this morning. But I think Carly and I need to go check on Danny. See ya, Rocky."

If it was at all possible, the bedridden man deflates more but nods none the less. Carly squeezes his hand gently and then follows Spike out- Poplock decides to stay behind to keep chatting with his lifelong friend.

The couple departs the room and walks the short distance down the hall to Daniel's. They knock, and then open the door to enter.

"...ight, thanks! Talk to ya later."

Spike and Carly both pause in the doorway, but Danny just waves them in after lowering his watch and setting it on the table next to his bed. "Hey! Just finished talking to Blurr, and good news!" He beams up at his parents as they come to the bedside, exchanging glances with each other.

Carly speaks up first, "What's that, Danny?"

"Wheelie started to stir this morning! Blurr said he and Kup were chatting with Sides, and Wheelie vented and fluttered his optics! That's more than he's done since the fight!" Daniel reaches over and picks up his watch again. "I told Blurr to call back if Wheelie does anything else. I...I was so worried about him..."

"We know, dear." Carly says, running her fingers through the young man's hair- careful of his stitches. "Once you're discharged we can go see Wheelie, alright?"

...

Machines beeped and buzzed, and one of the two visitors present vents softly as he recharges on the large couch; but the room is otherwise silent. The other visitor, however, sits next to the stasis-locked Mini-Bot, wringing his hands together in a restless manner. The old mech's blue optics scan Wheelie's frame- watching, hoping, for the young 'bot to move. The old mech lifts a hand and gently rubs the soldier/journalist's forehead, his optics creased with worry and exhaustion. "Come on lad... Pull through." He rubs his thumb in a caring manner between Wheelie's optics; like a sire might do to his recharging sparkling.

"Mhmm?" A soft mumble makes the old vet jump, and his gaze shifts over to Blurr. The head messenger was fast asleep, but was starting to mutter things to himself. Kup chuckles softly for the first time since Bluestreak had run into the medical bay with an unconscious Mini-Bot in his arms, Wheelie leaking fluids from his head. He watches the blue mech shift from how he lays on the couch, the thickset piece of human furniture creaking- the former speedster only manages a yelp when that shifting makes him roll right off the couch.

Kup stands up at that and makes his way over to the younger mech just as Blurr manages to pull himself into a sitting position. The blue mech grumbles a curse, and accepts the help that Kup offers to him to get his crutches and up off the floor.

"Interestin' dream?" the old mech chuckles softly, supporting the other under the arms while he adjusted his crutches.

Blurr just casts him an icy glare before shrugging off Kup's hands and limping over to the berth-side. "Has he- ..."

"No. Nothin' yet lad. Really startin' to worry me."

"Yeah, well, I know you and I were both worried from the start anyway. He hasn't even opened his optics yet or twitched his digits 'sides that little bit this morning. That's really, really not like him even when he's recharging. Ya know? He's always movin' something, and usually that something's his digits. But he's not even moving his digits so I'm not sure when he's gonna wake up. I know he will though. Eventually. I just don't know _when_. Do you know when, Kup? 'Cause I sure damn don't."

"I'm not sure. But if he's anything like you an' I, he'll come back kickin'."

Blurr only manages a huff and nods his helm.

"Ya called Dan earlier didn't you?"

"Yep. Just before I dozed off. He sounded really, really relieved 'bout the movement earlier. Really hoping it wasn't just some false alarm. Hate gettin' Danny excited for nothing. But what'll ya do? I-..."

"Blurr."

"Yeah?"

"You're rambling."

"Oh."

A knock at the door draws their attention. It's followed immediately by a voice outside the Mini-Bot's room. "I know you two are in there. Quit locking the damn door."

Blurr hobbles toward the door before the old mech can so much as say one thing against it- likely to tell the paralyzed mech to sit his aft down while he went and opened it. Too late though. Even with crutches and his speed programming destroyed, Blurr could move pretty fragging quick if you weren't paying attention to where he was. After a bit of fumbling to key in the lock code so that the door would open while also trying to keep his right crutch under his arm, the former speedster gets the door to open.

The first thing to meet them is a glowering Sideswipe. Directly behind him is First Aid with a small cart that had energon cubes and a few tools on it.

Sides hoists Blurr up and throws him over one shoulder before even a curse could leave the ex-racer. "Frag it. Let me down, let me down! Sideswipe!"

"Shut uuuup." Sides rolls his optics and barely reacts as the smaller, lighter mech pounds his fists against red back-plating. "Aid and Percy need you, but you've refused to leave the room. So ya know what?-"

"Put 'im down, lad." The vet stands with his arms crossed and a stern look on his face-plates.

"But-..."

"Now."

Kup, the Master at Interrupting Others, gets the demolitionist to comply and set down the poor officer.

"Now," the vet adds, "what was that 'bout?"

"Look, I'm just doing what I was told. Perceptor and First Aid need him for something- some sorta therapy if I'm to guess. But we all know he's not going to Percy's lab with Wheelie like this. Rodimus told me to come pick him up to bring him to Percy." Sideswipe rubs the back of his neck. "Not sure Prime meant to literally pick him up, but..."

Sideswipe trails off to a scraping sound. Four gazes shift to the berth. It doesn't look like the Mini-Bot had moved. At least, not until Aid takes a closer look. "Had his left digits been curled before?"

"Eh?" Kup leans over the right side of the berth so he can see Wheelie's left hand. Sure enough, it's balled into a tight fist. "No. They hadn't."

Blurr somewhat shoulders past the red-armored mech and goes to First Aid's side on the left side of the berth. Kup's gaze shifts from Blurr, to Sideswipe, with a raised optical-ridge. He never was certain what their relationship was. Sometimes they could be having a light-sparked conversation that had even Sides chuckling; the next minute, they could be arguing like they couldn't stand each other.

He could worry about that later. He had something else to worry about right now.

Kup brings up a hand and carefully rests it on top of the Mini-Bot's head, leaning forward a little. "Lad? Can ya hear me?"

Hexagonal optics flutter and digits flex. He ex-vents and stiffly reaches for his helm while mouthing something. The Mini-Bot mouths the same words multiple times; _'It hurts'_.

"Easy, Wheelie," First Aid murmurs, gently grabbing the young mech's wrists and lowering them back to his sides. "You're coming out of stasis-lock, alright? Take is slow until your systems are booted up."

Dull optics open and try to focus on the medic. "Very good," the Protectobot says softly while reaching behind himself and taking a flashlight off of the cart he'd taken into the room. He turns the light on and brings it in front of Wheelie's optics; they follow the light's movement without problem besides an initial flinch away from the light. "Good."

 _'Kup, Blurr'_ the Mini-Bot mouths, optical-ridges furrowing a little.

"We're here, lad." A lazy gaze shifts over to the old mech. "Ya took quite a hit. How're you feelin'?"

 _'It hurts,'_ he repeats, hands reaching up to clutch the sides of his helm momentarily, only for First Aid to lower his arms again.

"I'm sure it does. Just listen t' Aid here, ya got it? He'll make ya feel good as new, eh?"

The Mini-Bot's former caretaker wishes he could do more to help Wheelie as he slowly came to- but there is not much he could do. He just had to watch as Wheelie's unfocused gaze tried scanning everyone in the room, like he was having trouble telling who was who. Or...no. He was looking for someone...

It's clear that Kup wasn't the only one to notice as Sideswipe pipes up before the vet could say anything. "Wheelie? What are you looking for?"

Optics move to Sides slowly, and Wheelie blinks slowly while they narrow a little. _'Dan.'_

Sideswipe looks at Kup somewhat quizzically; he hadn't been around Wheelie enough to red lips as well as Kup, Danny, and Blurr could.

"Danny's alright, lad," the old coot assures, "he's on Earth. From what I've heard, he got off lot better than you did."

First Aid straightens and clears his intake to get the attention of the three fully-conscious mechs present. "Wheelie will be needing a lot of rest; he still has a lot of time to need to fully recover. His processors will be taking it the hardest, so they may lag a bit until they start functioning correctly. If it happens, be patient with him." He looks between Blurr and Kup. "As his medic, I order that one of you two accompany him at all times until he's cleared by me."

"Yes sir," Blurr answers loyally, tilting his helm into a nod considering the difficulty saluting would've given him.

"You got it," Kup says immediately following the blue mech.

"Sideswipe, you're excused," says the medic.

"But..."

"You're excused."

Sides mutters something under a vent and marches out of the room.

"Blurr," Aid adds, "you're to go see Perceptor now. Now excuses."

The former speedster clamps his mouth shut like he had been ready to argue before being told 'no excuses'. He quickly decides to obey the pacifist yet pushy medic and limps out.

"And Kup-..."

"I ain't leavin'."

"I-..."

"Don't try arguin' with me."

"I was saying I want you to stay in here," the Protectobot says hurriedly in a clear attempt to finish before he could be interrupted again.

"Eh?"

"He's barely conscious right now. He'll likely fall back into recharge shortly, but then when he wakes? He'll need a familiar face to explain to him what's going on. There's not much I can do or him now; not until I can see through his actions how his processors took the blow. Until he's fully awake I won't risk running any tests."

The much older mech scratches his chin and nods. "An' if I forget?"

"I'm trusting that the priority of this will make it hard for you to; damaged memory core or not. Please, Kup? This is important. I'm going to work on Blurr since I can't do much here, now; but please just comm me if he wakes up, alright?"

Kup nods. "Ya can count on me, lad."


	7. Recovery

**Look and Listen Book 1**

 **There's a Reason**

 **Chapter 7: Recovery**

 **Rating: PG (physical disablities)**

 **Major Characters: Blurr, Daniel, Wheelie, Kup**

 **POV: Blurr, Kup, Wheelie (interchanging between scenes)**

* * *

"Wheelie, come on!" Daniel shouts, trying to drag his friend along faster through the HQ's halls.

The Mini-Bot flinches at the volume and rubs the side of his head. Blurr, a little behind them but keeping pretty good pace because of his larger size and longer 'strides', seems to notice. "Hey, Dan? You really, really shouldn't be yelling; gotta keep your voice low an' don't make him move too fast or his equilibrium sensors will go off wrong. He's still recovering and Aid's still got repairs to make."

"Damn...sorry! I keep forgetting..." Daniel goes to comb his fingers through his hair with a sigh, but grimaces and lowers his hand when he catches his stitches.

Blurr just shakes his helm and presses on; it doesn't take the other two long to catch up as he goes slow. "So where do ya plan on going, huh, Dan? He can't really do much right now, per Aid's demand. Hope ya know that and don't have much planned."

"Just a walk," the organic answers. "Aid said he was starting to get restless and needed one. I was hoping to maybe bring him to the training field. The Dino-Bots wanna see him."

"Eh...I'm not really sure it's a good idea to let 'em see him yet. They're way, way, way too loud."

The blue mech glances down at Wheelie and catches a tiny nod.

"Oh...right."

...

"Easy, lad..." Kup murmurs while resting his large hands on the Mini-Bot's shoulders. A burst of static (probably from Blaster bumping the mic controls) had come from the speakers. The volume had really messed with Wheelie's hearing and made him stumble. Only the vet's quick hands had kept him from getting up close and personal with the floor.

Wheelie rubs his optics with his thumb and index digit like he's got a bad processor-ache.

"Come on. First Aid needs to see ya."

The Mini-Bot looks up to his childhood caretaker. He furrows his optical-ridges and blinks. _'What?'_ he signs, somewhat sloppily.

"First Aid, lad. Remember? That's where we're headed- you've got an appointment."

Wheelie shakes his head and shrugs, like he's genuinely confused as to where they were going.

Kup sighs and places his hand on Wheelie's back, guiding the Mini-Bot on through the hall. "He's gotta do somethin' 'bout your processor-lag. Yours's 'least repairable."

...

"You really, really shouldn't be straining your optics ya know. It'll make your processors ache even worse and Aid isn't going to be very happy about that. You just need to rest when you've got leisure time."

Wheelie rolls his optics without turning to face the ex-racer who's currently sprawled out on the couch comfortably. He keeps right on typing on one of his (many) data-pads. Apparently Bumblebee had written up the report for the battle that happened over two weeks ago now. That irked the Mini-Bot. As journalist, reports were his _job_. He'd been studying for years now how to write a good, detailed report. Sure, Bumblebee's was alright, but the scout just didn't have the optic for detail that Wheelie did.

He'd asked Rodimus multiple times for the report to see how well it was done and if there was anything he needed to add. It took a while before the Prime had agreed. About the only reason Wheelie was given it despite his processors' current state was that he was always the one to review reports before sending in the finals to the command room for Blaster, Rodimus, Magnus, or Jazz to read. It looked like Bee had gotten all the bots to give their own reports and then compiled them together. Well, that was done right, at least. Wheelie's report wasn't there yet, of course, but there were also a few things in Bee's report Wheelie noticed needed editing.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. Okay...maybe Blurr was right. But Wheelie had a job. He begins typing his personal report to add to the conglomerate- then he'd edit Bumblebee's into the correct formatting.

He doesn't get very far into it before his vision starts swimming. He feels himself swaying as his equilibrium sensors try calibrating. He can hear Blurr scrabbling for his crutches and hauling himself off the couch.

"Easy, Wheels, easy..."

The Mini-Bot hadn't realized he'd stood up until he felt his larger friend holding one of his shoulders and guiding him to the couch. His processors were throbbing by the time he was seated and everything looked blurry to him. He faintly noticed when Blurr moved something in front of him, right before he purged into it. It was a bucket. Thankfully, when First Aid had caught word that Wheelie was still working with data-pads, he'd ordered that the Mini-Bot at least keep a bucket or wastebasket near his desk.

Wheelie feels the older mech rubbing his back and glances at Blurr from the corner of his optic. The other mech had sat down next to him.

"Wheelie? Ya hearin' me? Just close your optics and take deep vents. Aid said it'll help, remember? Hey. Wheels..."

The blue mech was waved off as Wheelie took the bucket into his own hands. He gave a small thumbs-up to show he heard Blurr and is doing as told; that he was alright.

How long would this go on, the Mini-Bot wonders.

...

"...just keep an optic on him for a while," First Aid ordered as he took a step back from the Mini-Bot. "He's cleared for duty, but I want to know immediately if he has any sort of relapse." The medic starts typing on a data-pad, glancing between it, his patient, and then the other two mechs periodically. Aid had allowed Blurr to sit in the chair he usually used for checkups so that the paralyzed mech wouldn't have to balance himself the entire time. Wheelie is seated on the berth, digits tapping against it and legs hanging over the side. Kup stands next to the orange soldier with his arms crossed and First Aid standing in front of him, a bit to the right.

"Relapse as in memory-loss, dizzy-spells, and purging?" Blurr asks, even though it was pretty obvious that was exactly what the Protectobot meant.

"Mhmm, those or whatever else that may cue you to any problems with his processors."

Wheelie taps the berth with his knuckles in an annoyed manner, like he'd been trying to get the older mechs' attention for a while now. _'Can we go now?'_ he signs, raising his optical-ridges quizzically. _'Other_ _M-I-N-I-B-O-T-S doing something on practice field.'_

"Yes, yes; go." First Aid made a shooing motion. It was hard to tell behind his visor and mouthplate, but his sighed chuckle gave the other three mechs that his expression must have been a mixture of humored and annoyed.

The berth might have been high for the Mini-Bot, but he didn't wait for Kup to help him down. He jumped, landing awkwardly in a way that had the medic tilting his helm in a disapproving manner, before he took off out of the room.

Blurr, Kup, and First Aid could only look at each other and vent a sigh.


End file.
